


I'll Carry You Home Tonight

by Lilsciencequeen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Adorable FitzSimmons (Agents of SHIELD), Because what drunk fic doesnt have vomiting, Drunk Jemma Simmons, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, F/M, Firefly References, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Forehead Kisses, Forehead Touching, IM IN LOVE WITH HIM GIVING HER FOREHEAD KISSES, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Vomiting, YES THOSE, dont judge, protective Fitz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 10:15:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7432264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet again, Fitz is left to take care of a drunken Jemma, though this time he may learn more about her than he originally knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Carry You Home Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> So yay, more protective Fitz? I hope you guys enjoy this and thanks for checking out. Just a spoiler warning for Firefly and Serenity in case you don't know anything that happened, pretty major spoilers here.

It was close to midnight, and Fitz still hadn’t had any luck with getting Jemma to leave the bar. It was getting close to midnight, and Jemma had instructed him, whilst she was still sober that he no let her stay out too late, and to take her home before she started getting emotional.

Unfortunately, she was already getting to that emotional stage. Fitz sighed from their place in the booth and watched as Jemma tried to dance to the music, something that she was not exceeding at at this point in time. He took a drink of his drink (non-alcoholic, they had an agreement, that one of them remain sober when they were out, after the first and only time they were both drunk together) and stood up, grabbing both of their coats and her bag.  

“Fitz!” she called at him from across the room. They weren’t at a bar, for say, more in a room that had been rented for a friend of theirs 21st birthday, and Jemma was more than enjoying herself. “Fitz!” she shouted again, grabbing the aforementioned friend’s arm. “Darcy! Look its Fitz!” Both woman started giggling and caused Fitz to sigh again. Jemma giggling was never a good sign when she was drunk. It meant that sooner or a later she would start crying. Then realisation spread across her face. “Fitz needs a drink!”

Fitz, now standing opposite the two woman, shook his head. “Fitz does not need a drink.”

Jemma stared at him, trying to read him, but failing in her intoxicated state. “Please” she tried, now begging. “It’s Darcy’s birthday. You can’t let her down, can you?”

 When he didn’t reply, she tried another approach: she widened her eyes, and starting pouting, attempting to look like a puppy dog to try to persuade Fitz. He looked at her, and her lip quivered. And he nodded, knowing that she would win, she would inevitably win in this argument. She smiled, and flung her arms around him, squeezing him more than hugging him.

“Can I have...” he began to ask, but she was already at the bar, ordering something. He hoped it wasn’t shots, he _prayed_ it wasn’t shots. Jemma could just about handle them when she was sober, and when she was drunk… he didn’t like to think about what would happen.

It was shots. She had gotten them. He tried to hide his hatred when she brought them to the table that he and Darcy were waiting at, nearly falling in her heels that only resulted in her and Darcy bursting into yet more giggles. Fitz thought to himself that they would be lucky to leave here before twelve. 

Jemma set the three glasses on the table, looking reasonably proud of herself. Darcy immediately grabbed one, nearly spilling it and was ready to take it, but a whine from Jemma prevented her downing it. “Three!”

Darcy nodded, and Fitz understood this. Jemma wanted them to down it together.

“One, two, three!”

And it burnt, God did it burn. Fitz had never experienced anything like that before, and he never wanted to again.

Jemma also didn’t seem to enjoy it as much as she had thought she would, immediately retching. Fitz immediately ran to the bar and asked for a glass of water. Thankfully, and properly out of pity, the barman gave it to him for free. Once back at the table, Jemma no longer gagging, accepted it with thanks and drank the entire thing in one go.

Sitting the glass back down on the table, she gave something that resembled a mixture of a burp and a hiccup, prompting Fitz to immediately get moving. They had to leave now, as what came next would not be pretty, both emotionally and physically.

“Jemma,” he said, trying to fill his voice with excitement and enthusiasm, like they were going on an adventure, somewhere exciting, and not just home where the next hour or so would be spent in the bathroom. “Are you ready?”

Jemma stared at him, her face scrunched up. She was probably attempting to raise an eyebrow but not succeeding due to the state that she was in. “Where?”

“Hom…” he began, then realised that this was probably a bad idea. Mentioning home to a drunken Jemma resulted in her not going home. “An adventure.”

She brightened up at this. “An adventure?”

He nodded. “Just us two. Me and you.”

She seemed to consider it, and then nodded. The idea of an adventure seemed to triumph the idea of having another drink (thankfully).

“Great.” A wide smile was plastered across his face, keeping up the pretence. If he could, then handling Jemma on the fifteen minute walk home would be so much easier. “Do you want to put your coat on?”

She looked at him, contemplating this next question. “Do I have to?”

He nodded, and helped her up, and attempted to find one end of the coat from another. It was massive. He had no idea where the bottom was, and where the top was. Eventually, he got there, and with relatively difficulty he managed to get it on her, and guided her to the door of the bar. He knew if he didn’t, she’d want one last drink, and a chance to say goodbye.

Out on the street, the real challenges would begin, not that Fitz wasn’t well skilled in them now. He just hoped that the vomiting wouldn’t start until they got home.

A sudden weight on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts. Jemma was hanging onto him, using him for support. He adjusted her so that they were both in a more comfortable positon. She smiled up at him from her position on his shoulder. “Fitz,” she slurred. “Are we going to slay a dragon?”

He laughed at this, he couldn’t help it. It was such an innocent comment, yet it was said with so much conviction that it seemed that Jemma _actually_ thought that she was going to have to fight dragons. “Two,” Fitz replied, seeing no harm in playing along with her.

However, it seemed that this was not the answer that Jemma was looking for as she turned to look at him, horrified. “Two? I can’t fight two dragons!”

Fitz knew he had to calm her down, he knew once she started crying there would be no stopping her, and he didn’t think he was strong enough to carry her the rest of the way home. “We have one each. We can fight one each.”

The advice fell on deaf ears as Jemma was still listing the reasons why they couldn’t possibly fight two dragons. “And what about Part Two? Who am I supposed to see the last Harry Potter film with if you die? Or who will you see it with if I die? And aren’t we a team? Aren’t we supposed to be FitzSimmons?”

“We are,” he reassured, wrapping an arm around her, and pulling her in close. “The films next week, we’ve tickets. I’m not gonna let you see it by yourself.”

She looked up at him and nodded, as if she were pleased by his answer. “Good. You can’t leave me.”

“I, Leopold Fitz, will never leave you, Jemma Simmons.”

She nodded again at this, and then looked down, seeing leaves on the ground, attached to a branch that had fallen of the tree and her mood changed so fast that Fitz knew he was now fighting a lost cause.

“Fitz,” she whispered, her voice small and broken. “Wash.”

And then the tears began to flow, making streaks down her face. She became a dead weight and he had to help lower her to the ground so that she wouldn’t hurt herself. “I know,” he whispered into her hair, as he pulled her close. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she sobbed. “He’s dead. And it looked bad. Fitz it’s so mean. Why was it him?”

Fitz shrugged. “Because Joss is mean?” It was a bad answer, and he knew it. He also knew that he had to change the subject, to say something happier to distract her from the fact that a broken tree branch was now making her cry over a science fiction series. “He has a baby you know, Zoe was pregnant.”

That didn’t help, in fact it just made her worse.

“He never got to see his baby!”

“I know, but he died saving them. Doesn’t that mean something?”

She was silent for a moment before “I suppose.”

Then. “My feet hurt.”

He had to laugh at this, at just how blunt that statement was. She leaned in closer to him, huddling against his shoulder. “I want to go home.”

“I know Jems.” He reached down, and started to unfasten the buckles of her heels, he was surprised she had even made it this far whilst she was wearing them. Then he placed them in her lap before scooping her up, they were just over five minutes from home. He would be able to carry her there. Hopefully. Despite his earlier thoughts, they were closer home than he originally thought so carrying her home shouldn't be too hard.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her words stumbling over each other.

“You’ve sore feet?” A nod. “We’re a team?” Another nod from Jemma. “So I’m carrying you home, okay?”

She nodded again, and lay then content in his arms as he made his way through the streets back to their apartment. They were nearly there when she spoke again. Fitz was terrified she was going to throw up but instead it was quite the opposite.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Fitz was taken back by this. He knew that Jemma could be affectionate when she was drunk but she never said anything like this before.

“I think I’m in love with you,” she repeated, her voice soft as if she were contemplating what she had just said aloud.

“It’s okay,” he replied, knowing that now was not the best time to be having this discussion. If she really felt this way, then tomorrow afternoon, once the hangover had worn off, would be the best time to discuss this. “It’s okay.” So for now he gave her reassurances and placed gentle kisses on her forehead, the main way that he told her that everything would be okay.

She snuggled closer to him, her eyes fluttering shut and listening to his heart beat as he carried her into their complex and up to their apartment.

It was once they were in their apartment, her shoes clattering to the floor, that she covered her mouth with her hands, and before she knew it, she was knelt over the toilet, Fitz holding her hair back and rubbing reassuring circles on her back.

They sat there for an hour, neither saying anything but when Jemma looked up, Fitz knew what he had to do next, they had been in this position many times before. He stood up and reached for her face cloth, soaking it slightly in warm water and cleaning her face.

She was now sitting cross legged, smiling up at him as he proceeded with the task. She was still smiling when he had dried her face, and offered her a hand to help her up. She took it and padded her way, hand still in his to her bedroom before entering. He waited outside as she got changed.

She opened his door, now wearing his hoodie and a pair of his pyjama bottoms, something that she had been wearing all week now she had the chance, now she was staying here every night, no longer going to Milton’s after she had found him cheating on her. She stared at him for a moment, she seemed to be considering something. “Can we watch Doctor Who?” she asked.

He looked at her, it was close to one in the morning. Then he nodded. They both had nothing to do tomorrow, it seemed like it would be fun and there was no harm in watching a little TV.

She smiled so hard, like it was Christmas and made her way to the living room, stumbling slightly. By the time he arrived, she was curled up on the sofa, staring intently at the blank screen. Fitz looked at her and sighed, then headed into the kitchen, filling a couple of bowls with pretzels, crisps and sweets, thinking a little food wouldn’t hurt. Then he filled two large glasses with water, and brought them into the living room, setting the bowls and glasses on the coffee table.

“Are we having a party?” she asked, as he sat down.

“Yeah, Jems, we are.”

“That’s fantastic,” she whispered, resting her head on his lap.

“It is,” he replied, running his hands through her hair.

***

The next morning, after he had showered, he found her sitting at their kitchen table, head resting on it, a mug in one hand.

“Morning,” he said.

A groan came from her, she was clearly regretting last night. She had swapped his hoodie for her dressing gown and as she raised her head the hood fell down. “How much?”

He shrugged, leaning against the counter and lifting his freshly made coffee (he was able to time his showers perfectly so he was out and in the kitchen when his coffee was made). “A lot.”

She groaned again. It was obvious that the pain killers had yet to kick in. “I don’t remember much.”

“You don’t want to.”

She winced. “Was it bad?”

He nodded, and she braced herself for what he was about to say. “You started crying over a branch and leaves.”

“Wash?”

He nodded.

“Oh God.” She looked mortified. He shrugged. It hadn’t been the worst thing she had done. And it also seemed she didn’t remember her drunken confession. He tried not to be disappointed, he did have feelings for her but this was just another drunken confession lost to the night.

“Did I do anything else?” she asked nervously, “Like, did I say anything to you, about something or maybe someone…” She trailed off.

He bit his lip.

“You can tell me.”

He nodded, now having her permission to say it. “You said you think you might be in love with me. Is that true?”

It took her a moment but she finally nodded. “I do have feelings for you Fitz.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me? How long for?”

She shrugged. “Since I met you. I thought… You hated me when we met… And then we became friends. I didn’t want to ruin the first true friendship I had. And then we met Darcy last year and I thought you liked her.”

He shook his head. It had taken her nearly seven years to pluck up the courage to tell him how she truly felt, scared that she would ruin whatever they had. “Jems, I’ve felt the same way. And hate you, I could never hate you. Darcy, she was just a friend any way. You know that. Is that why you dated?”

“I didn’t think you’d ever think of me as anything more than a friend.”

“Jems, you’re the most wonderful human I’ve ever met. I have never connected with anyone like I have with you. And if you want, we can do this. Have a new adventure, not just as friends but as more than that?”

Jemma laughed, pushing her empty mug away from her and standing up. “Will there be dragons?”

“Do you want there to be?”

She shook her head, and made her way to him, bringing one hand up and placing it on his cheek, cupping it. He reached out, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her ever so gently in closer to him. Before they both knew what was happening, their lips were dancing tenderly across each other’s, seven years of buried feelings finally surfacing.

“Jems,” he whispered once they pulled apart, still embracing each other, foreheads touching.

“Yes,” she breathed, her breath warm on her face, feeling more alive than she should in her current hungover state.

“Your breath smells.”

“Ugh, Fitz!”

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to keep it canon compliant and then that went out the window. I started writing this a few days ago, and I got the idea while I was out last week and was forced to do shots and then this happened. But none of the cute fluffy stuff happened. I literally left early, came home and read fanfic... Thanks for checking out and I hope that you enjoyed and Marvel owns all. The title comes from We Are Young by FUN.


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